Wednesday, September 28, 2016

The Quiet of the Country

So quiet.
Almost too quiet.

I walk, listening to the silence.


Shoes crunch on gravel.

Dog barks, keen to follow the roar of the farmer's bike.

Down the driveway
the sounds of myna birds
tui
wax eyes
a pheasant whirring up through the undergrowth
piwakawaka joyfully following
collecting insects
stirred up by my steps


Further along, the bird sounds are drowned out by cows:
in the gaps between warning mooing
and anticipatory mooing
the cud chewing is audible
as is the slurping of hooves
in and out of deep mud
and the soft plops
of freshly forming cow pats


the wind whistles past my ears
like breath over a bottle
and stirs the old macrocarpa to gossip

an aeroplane drones overhead
echoed by a white ute purring
past the end of the road


bees hum in golden gorse flowers

The old dog, panting, 
splashes into the gurgling stream


My heart beats in my ears
as I climb the hill

So quiet in the country



 













Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Being Present and Peaceful

In the dark days, it is so easy for me to forget just how easy it is to be at peace in the beautiful place that is  my home. My counselor suggested to me the other day that I should try to get out and enjoy the natural world more. I am outside every day, but always with purpose - feeding the ducks and chooks, gardening, walking for my health. He suggested that I just sit / walk / be. Of course, I didn't. But a few days later my grandson, who stayed for the weekend, wanted company to go down into our bush to see if the bridge was still there.  It was.
And if the hut was still there: It was but the ladder had rotted and the floor had slipped and was a bit suspect.
Bob The Dog came with us.
And Spike The Cat too.

I can't believe how I can forget to walk down into my little piece of paradise! It is so easy to put my anxiety and worries and depression aside, and just be present in the present when I am there. Yet I spend miserable months sitting in my house, just metres from the bush, despairing of my world.














The dog loves it.
The cat loves it.
The boy loves it.
The old woman loves it.